


friday nights at the underground.

by heyitsnxel



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 1970s, Alcohol, Drug Use, Established Relationship, M/M, Punk AU, prb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 02:10:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17572316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitsnxel/pseuds/heyitsnxel
Summary: Dan and Phil go to an underground punk show in 1970's London.





	friday nights at the underground.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was written for the Phandom Reverse Bang and inspired by a beautiful piece of art by deathclassic which you can find [HERE](https://deathclassic.tumblr.com/post/182363736005/friday-nights-at-the-underground-by-hey-itsnxel) :)
> 
>  
> 
> this started as one thing in my head and quickly spiraled into something else. enjoy. :)  
> (tw: drugs, alcohol, piercing, tattoos.)

Phil’s hands wrapped around Dan’s, pulling him towards the alleyway. The streets were covered in a thin layer of snow and it was getting colder by the minute. Dan shot a glance at the people who were rushing home, eager to get out of the cold and quick to utter words of annoyance to the duo as they passed. They were used to it. Dan and Phil’s style wasn’t to the taste of most of upper-class London. The piercings, the tattoos, the hair. It was all too much. They were stupid kids, making stupid decisions they were going to regret, rebelling against the government, and making the world a more dangerous place. They smoked weed and they drank and they listened to the devil’s music. Hell, some of them might be actual demons on Earth in the minds of most of London.

 

They didn’t care. 

 

They were used to the words, the slurs, the general distaste for who they were. 

 

And they loved it.

 

* * *

To most people, the alleyway was just another dirty alleyway on the side streets of London. It was long and dark and dirty, covered in graffiti and only inhabited by rats digging through the trash, the homeless, and a few stray kids that were always smoking at the very back.

 

But, to anyone in the know, this particular alley was more than that. 

 

“They changed the name again.” Phil glanced up at the neon green graffiti above the rusted door. It was barely legible, painted over top of many other words that had been graffitied there over the past year.

 

“Yeah, probably got shut down again. Jus’ another week.”

 

_ The Underground _ had gone by many names; NightShift, Black Forest, MIXX. The list could go on and on. The owner had even simply reduced the name to “ _ The Bar _ ” after a drunken suggestion one night from Dan. Give Dan a few minutes and he could probably list them all off the top of his head. That’s how much the bar meant to him.  The name changes had never stopped them from showing up there every weekend without fail. It gave the bar character.

  
  


“Wanna smoke?” Phil shivered as he tore his eyes away from the graffiti, digging around in his pocket for the pack of cigarettes he knew was there. They always were. His fingers fumbled with the cellophane covering the pack before he finally pulled it off and held a cigarette out towards Dan.

 

“Gotta bum a light or do you have one?”

 

Phil grinned sheepishly, pulling the ring in his lip between his teeth. “Take a wild guess.”

 

Dan rolled his eyes, cigarette dangling loosely between his lips. “You’re impossible.”

 

Phil watched as Dan sauntered off to a group of girls further down the alley, giving them that cheeky smile that Phil loved so much. They chatted for a moment, eyes roaming up and down Dan’s -  _ his  _ Dan’s body - before one of them flicked their lighter and his cigarette was lit. Phil wasn’t blind enough to miss the wink he shot in the girl’s direction before he came back towards his direction.

 

“Gimme your fag,” Dan demanded as he walked back up, but Phil held it firmly between his lips.

 

“Do you have to flirt with them?” Phil pouted, mumbling between the cigarette in his lips.

 

With a sigh, Dan stepped forward and pressed the lit end of his cigarette into Phil’s. They both watched as the smoke left his lips, mixing in with the cold London air. 

 

“Do you always have to flirt with the bartender to get free drinks?” 

 

* * *

 

The bar was loud and crowded, just the way it was supposed to be. 

 

Dan liked it that way. He liked having to cling onto Phil’s arm so they wouldn’t get separated. He liked the gentle brush of Phil’s lips against his ears when he had to lean in just to talk. He liked the music blasting through the speakers, shaking the bartop, and completely washing over him. Tonight was no exception. The band on stage was playing fast and loud and Dan was immediately drawn towards the crowd. Phil, however, had other plans. He looped his arms around Dan’s waist, pulling him back against his chest.

  
  


“Not yet.” Dipping his head down, he tugged gently on Dan’s stretched lobe with his teeth.

  
  


“Ugh, fine,” Dan whined, pushing him away. “ ‘Least get me a drink. ”

 

Giving Dan’s ear another gentle tug, Phil began to shove his way through the throngs of people surrounding the bar. 

 

Dan watched him go. There wasn’t a need to be coy. Phil knew Dan watched him. Phil was inherently sexy - the way he swung his hips as he walked, the tattoos that swirled across his skin, everything about him had Dan hooked from the first moment he saw him. Phil was an addiction that he didn’t want to recover from.

 

* * *

The bar had been called  _ The Pit  _ then and it was far before Dan started coming on a weekly basis.

 

“Come on, Danny.” Alex had complained, digging her black painted fingernails into his arm and dragging him through the door. 

 

Alex had been Dan’s roommate from the moment he moved out of his parent's house. She was everything Dan had idolized under his parent’s strict rules as a kid. Her electric blue hair cascaded down her back, swinging loosely below their waist. The strands brushed against the exposed, ink-covered skin of her lower back. There was so much metal in her face that Dan had relentlessly teased her about it until he started to look the same. She was everything his parents had warned him about and everything he wanted in a best friend.

 

But right now, Alex’s grip was relentless as she pulled Dan inside and he wanted nothing more than to shake her off. But, she was clearly on a mission for alcohol and Dan knew better than to complain. 

 

That was when Dan saw him. 

 

Leaning against the broken brick of the back wall was the most gorgeous man Dan had ever laid his eyes on. He was mesmerized by the way the man pulled his tongue piercing between his teeth, flicking his tongue across the cool metal while talking to the guy on his right. Every nerve in Dan’s body wanted to march right over to him and rip that oversized flannel straight off his body. 

 

A trio of drunk girls broke Dan out of his trance, pushing by him with a shrill of loud laughter. When he looked back up, their eyes met and before Dan could melt into the floor, Alex had already looped her arm through his and began pulling him away.

 

-

 

“Hey.”

 

Dan glanced up from the rim of his drink, nervously rubbing the piercing that covered his dimple. He noticed the man’s eyes following his fingers, catching his lip between his teeth before he looked back up. It was the hot guy.

 

“‘Sup?”

 

“Your chick around?”

 

“My chick?” Dan shifted, not able to keep the confusion off his face.

 

The guy laughed. “Yeah. Blue hair, hanging all over you. Ya’know, that one?”

 

“Not my girl.” Dan shrugged. 

 

He watched the other man’s piercing in his eyebrow rise with skepticism before he took the seat across from him. 

 

“Bummer for her.” Phil winked. “M’Phil and I’m going to buy you a drink.”

 

* * *

Phil had ended up buying Dan quite a few drinks and taking him home within the hour. It was out of character for Dan to go home with a random bloke, but he was glad he had done it. He wouldn’t change anything about the night he met Phil - except for that stupid hot pink streak he’d let Alex put in his hair. Maybe he’d have taken that out.

 

* * *

 

Phil had two bottles in his hand as he pushed through the crowd. Dan watched as a dark-haired girl’s eyes followed him to the table, abruptly looking away when she caught Dan’s stare.

 

‘ _ Ha.’  _ Dan thought to himself. He knew it was foolish to be so possessive, but he couldn’t help it. Something about Phil just made him that way.

 

His eyes flicked back to the stage. Even from the back of the bar, he could see the beads of sweat dripping down the guitarist’s face as he yelled into the mic in front of him. People were already shoving at the front and Dan grimaced as someone toppled over onto the ground.

 

He knew they were fine. They always (usually) were.

 

Phil was bobbing his head, dangling the bottle in his hands by the neck. Dan was always more eager to get into the crowd than Phil. All he had to do was walk through the door and Dan was ready to go. Phil needed a while. He needed to feel the music, the atmosphere, the room. He liked to talk to everyone. Phil needed to watch the heads of brightly colored hair dance, drink, and enjoy each other before he was ready to go near the crowd.

 

It wasn’t weird. It was just a Phil thing. 

 

Dan reached across the small table and ghosted his fingers across the shaved side of Phil’s head. He loved to touch it and Phil loved it being touched, evident enough by how quickly he leaned into it. 

 

Phil eventually pulled his head away and turned to Dan with a grin. “Got somethin’ for you.”

 

Dan’s head cocked to the side in interest, eyes immediately widening when he saw the joint in between Phil’s fingers.

 

“Wanna token up? Snagged it out of Martyn’s room earlier today.”

 

“Have I ever told you how ace you are?”

 

“Not nearly enough,” Phil smirked, holding the end of the joint up to Dan’s lips. “You first.”

 

Dan snagged a lighter off the floor, whoever had dropped it definitely wasn’t going to find it now. Holding the flame up to the unlit paper, Dan inhaled deeply, relishing in the burn of the smoke. Grabbing the thick chain Phil wore around his neck, Dan pulled him forward, and for a moment everything was silent. Their lips connected and Dan nudged Phil’s further apart with his tongue, exhaling the smoke into his mouth.

 

“Mm.” Dan hummed, twirling the joint in between his fingers as he pulled away. 

 

The smoke unfurled between them and Dan’s lips curved up. He reached out and poked his finger through one of Phil’s stretched ears, earning a whine from his boyfriends.

 

“Smoke it or hand it. We’ve got stuff to do tonight.”

  
  


* * *

Phil’s hands were trailing up and down the sleeves of Dan’s leather jacket. He tugged Dan flush to his chest, leaning around and pressing a kiss directly on top of Dan’s dimple piercing. Even after all this time, Dan’s face still lit up in a scarlet blush and he playfully shoved Phil away.

 

The bar had only gotten fuller and rowdier as the night went on. There would definitely be a brawl by the end of it. Dan was stoned. He was pretty sure Phil was too. All he wanted to do was get lost in the sea of people and scream along to the music until his voice gave out.

 

Dan tugged on Phil’s wrist, nodding towards the stage. Phil took the hint and intertwined their fingers, taking Dan deeper into the crowd. Brushing past sweat covered bodies and spilled drinks, avoiding the lit ends of cigarettes and joints, they were finally far enough in they were getting jostled around by the people surrounding them.

 

Phil grinned at Dan, tongue poking between his teeth. There was something weirdly exhilarating about sensory overload. The music, the people, the drinks, the weed, Phil.

 

God, especially Phil sometimes. 

 

All of them combined was so much sometimes that Dan could hardly handle it. It was the best kind of overwhelming Dan could ever want.  It was hard to feel the chill in the air, leaking in from the outside, when Phil’s hands were wrapped around him. There was no place in the world he’d rather be.

 

* * *

 

The night ended as it always did.

 

Somehow the crowd had carried them to the back wall they’d started at and Phil had Dan pressed up against it. His lips were all over him, clawing at the leather of his jacket, covering every inch of ink on his body.  Dan could hear people pass, whistling and shouting drunken words, as they went out the door. He didn’t care. He never did.

 

Phil pulled Dan’s hand to his lips, kissing the tattoo of his name that was inked across his skin.

 

“Ready to split?”

 

* * *

 

Dan draped his jacket over Phil’s shoulders as they left the bar. The snow had gathered quite a bit on the ground and the temperature was steadily dropping.

 

“Didn’t know it was this cold.” Phil slurred, slumping against Dan’s shoulder.

 

“Whatd’ya think it was going to be? Hot? It’s snowing.”

 

Phil laughed, shoving himself off Dan’s shoulder. An unlit cigarette hung between his lips and Dan quickly snatched it for himself.

 

“Oi!” Phil aimlessly grabbing for it back, bumping Dan out of the alley and straight into a very disgruntled older gentleman.

 

“Watch it, kid.” The man glowered over him. 

 

Dan pretended not to notice the side eye he was giving both he and Phil’s appearance. 

 

“Chill out.” Dan rolled his eyes, making a point to light the cigarette as close to him as possible. Exhaling the smoke, he shrugged. He wasn’t sorry.

 

The man’s face heated up, lips parting to likely berate Dan for his attitude, but Phil wasn’t having it. He grabbed Dan’s hand, pulling him out of the man’s way. 

 

“Come on.”

 

“You burnouts are part of the problem in the UK!” The man yelled as Phil tried to pull him away. “With your drugs and your Satan music… your  _ improper  _ relationships. The lot of you should just get out of here.”

 

Dan jerked out of Phil’s grip, turning back towards the man. 

 

“Oh yeah? Ya wanna hear about London’s problems? It’s the man. The whole ‘lot of ‘em. They’re the ones jacking everything up.  It doesn’t have anything to do with our improper relationships. I bet _our_ relationship,” Dan motioned to Phil. “-is infinitely better than you and your chick at him. Get bent or get lost, old man.”

 

“ _ Dan. _ ” Phil yanked on the back of Dan’s shirt, effectively ending the conversation before it turned into a fight. “We’re going home and you’re gonna  _ chill out.” _

  
  
  


“You never let me have any fun.”

 

“Do you want to spend another night with the fuzz?”

 

Dan stuck his tongue out at the back of Phil’s head. “No.”

 

“That’s what I thought.”

 

* * *

The brick pressed into Dan’s back as he leaned against it, beer bottle in hand. The band on stage was setting up, sending bursts of untuned guitars and static through the speakers.

 

“Ready for another rad Friday night?” Phil asked, jabbing his finger into the silver ball covering Dan’s dimple.

 

“Always am, Lester.”


End file.
